44| Freya Of Fury

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Cloud bangs the side of his fist against the glass of the vending machine that stole his money, glaring at the drink he bought that is currently trapped in-between the class and the shelf.

“You've got to be kidding me.” he mutters to himself, taking a giant step back when all the lights in the hospital strangely begin to flicker.

“Did the goblin steal your money?” an unfamiliar voice asks, forcing Cloud to turn and meet the gaze of a pretty woman with red hair and baby blue eyes that remind him of glass.

“What?”

She points past him towards the vending machine. “That thing has been broken since I've been working here but there's a trick to it.”

Cloud steps aside, watching her slip a pen into the pocket of her light blue scrubs before challenging the machine.

She makes a series of clearly practised hits against the machine where Cloud now sees scuff marks where the paint has begun to wear away.

When his drink rattles in the metal pan they both celebrate the tiny victory. “Thanks a lot, I was this close from running into the damn thing.”

“It's no problem, really.”

“Rachel is it?’

She squints her eyes, clearly surprised to hear a complete stranger come out with her name. “How did you-”

“-your badge.” he replies before she can finish the question, pointing to it hanging around the waistband of her scrubs.

Rachel laughs at herself, always forgetting that she literally has a photo of her with her name printed in bold at all times. “You're very observant.”

“Not really.” he lies to try and make her feel better.

From what he can tell, Rachel seems a lot closer in age to him than the other nurses working here, guessing at least twenty three or four. The light hasn't seemed to leave her eyes just yet and the permanent frown lines haven't set in.

“Are you okay?” she asks, immediately noticing how unstable he seems on his feet when they walk side by side.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy.” he weases.

“Let's get you seated somewhere.” she utters, shepherding him towards the nearest one that he clumsily sinks into. “How long have you been feeling dizzy?”

“A couple of hours.” he replies, quickly coming up with a sensible reason to cover up the truth, knowing that if he told her a hex made him bleed out from his nose and ears she'd probably put him in the psych ward. “I just donated some blood.”

“That would explain why you're so pale.”

Cloud sinks further into the seat, resting the back of his head against the wall. “Thanks?”

“It wasn't a jab, just a professional opinion,” she tells him. “Get some rest, have lots of fluids, avoid strenuous activities and you should be right as right.”

“I'll try.” he utters, demonstrating by popping off the lid of his drink and gulping down most of it in under a minute, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve with a satisfied burp.

“Are you here by yourself?” she inquires, trying her best not to pry since it's gotten her into trouble before.

“No, I'm here with my dad and my…” Cloud stumbles on his words, shifting in the seat as he clears his throat. “We're here for my mom, she, uh, she was injured.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Do you need help getting back to her room?”

Cloud politely shakes his head, nodding towards the room across from the seats they're currently sitting in. “It's just over there.”

Rachel follows his line of sight, her eyes widening once she connects the dots. “You're Cloud?”

“I don't have a badge so now it's your turn to explain.”

“I've worked with Mr and Mrs…I mean, I've worked with Amy and Jonathan before. They're really good people.”

Cloud's expression sours once he hears those words, fiddling with the ring on his finger as he bites down on his molars. “Yeah, well, bad things tend to happen to good people.”

“I'm so sorry, truly.”

“Do you think she's going to make it?” he asks abruptly, his green eyes searching for the answer in her face. “I've watched like thirteen seasons of Grey's, I know you shouldn't say but…please?”

Rachel swallows the tight knot in her throat, looking across the hall into the room where Amy Jefferson remains in an unconscious state.

Cloud notices how Rachel sways gradually from side to side, attacking the nail on her index finger against the meat of her thumb like a woodpecker, stuck in her own trance-like state.

“Are you okay?” he inquires, gently shaking her arm.

Rachel gasps, her head snapping towards Cloud as she inhalers a deep breath through her nose, staring at him with increased curiosity and something else.

Fear.

It's brief and she hides it well, but for a moment he saw bone chilling terror inside those blue glass windows.

“She'll make a full recovery.”

“Are you…sure?”

Rachel feverishly nods her head, a single tear springing from one eye that tumbles down her cheek. “I'm positive.”

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